Applewood and Wormholes
by WingedFlight
Summary: Stranded in modern England after the Doctor drops her off in the wrong time, Susan learns that she isn't the only former companion finding a new place in the world. An adventure in seven parts.
1. Jack (1)

**Title**: Applewood and Wormholes

**Rating: **T

**Spoilers**: Narnia - up through The Last Battle; Doctor Who - up to and including The End of Time

**A/N**: This story was written for the 2012-2013 Crossover Exchange on livejournal. It works as a stand-alone, in which Susan Pevensie was a companion to the Tenth Doctor but has finally left the TARDIS. It actually does continue off my two previous Narnia/Doctor Who crossovers ("To Be Left Behind" and "Tragic Comedy"), which detail some of Susan's travels with the Doctor. You do not need to have read either of these to enjoy this one.

Thank you so much to freudiancascade and rthstewart for beta work. Also, many thanks to everyone else I talked with in order to get my character feels straight!

-X-

"Time moves in one direction, memory in another." - William Gibson

-X-

.one.

-X-

On an evening as cold as this, Jack preferred the indoors. Even his heavy coat wasn't enough to ward off the chill, and he'd lost one of his gloves in the fight a few blocks back.

The alien he was trailing had no such qualms about the temperature. Large, muscular, and covered in a shaggy mess of fur, it appeared to be quite comfortable as it rooted about in the trash for food. Jack wouldn't have been so worried except he'd seen what this creature could do when provoked. There hadn't been much left of the victim when the creature had turned away, and leaping to the rescue had been a mistake. Tosh had suffered a nasty head wound, requiring a trip back to base for stitches, and Jack had died. But then, he always died. Ruined his second favourite shirt, but at least the claws missed the coat.

The alien grunted once and shied away from the other end of the alley. Jack tensed, hefting his weapon and expecting the worst. So far, he'd heard reports of only the one creature, although experience had taught that there might always be a nest of them around the bend. If that was the case, there wasn't much Jack could do tonight on his own. He didn't fancy waking up on the pavement for the second time in one night.

The shadows stirred but, instead of a second alien, it was a silhouetted woman who stepped into the light. The alien snuffled and scrapped a claw against the pavement. It turned toward her, lowered its head, and grunted once more in warning before crouching in preparation for a charge.

There was no time for hesitation. Jack rose from his crouch and whirled about the corner, shouting a warning -

The two shots sounded before the words were fully out of his mouth. The alien dropped with barely a whimper, reduced to little more than a tangled fur rug. Jack shifted his aim to the woman who had, in turn, directed her weapon at him.

"Haven't see you around these parts before," he said amicably behind a false smile.

The woman made a sound of recognition. "Jack," she said, and then, "Thank goodness. I didn't know you were here."

She moved closer, face finally passing into the light. Jack lowered his arms. "Susan Pevensie," he said with a grin. "Long time no sex."

-X-

He took her to a bar that was relatively close, where the owner owed Jack free drinks for dealing with an infestation of Smarks two weeks back. The table in the back was small and secluded, the drinks just what were needed. Susan slid her chair around beside him and didn't object when Jack stretched an arm across her shoulder, although he rather suspected she had chosen the position in order to keep an eye on the door.

"So," he asked finally, "Doctor parked across town? Would have expected to see him by now."

She huffed a breath and took a long sip. "The Doctor is off exploring the universe," she explained. "I asked him to drop me off back home and - well, I think the TARDIS got the year wrong."

Jack sat back to study her face. "You never did tell me when you were from. How far off are you?"

She stared into her drink. "Half a century, roughly."

He whistled low. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to adjust." She tapped a finger against the side of her jacket that hid her revolver. "What _has_ Earth been up to, getting so much attention from alien species?"

He chuckled. "No more than usual. You've just become more aware of it."

Susan's face closed off in introspection and she fiddled with her glass. Finally, she admitted, "I've been moving around plenty since I last saw the Doctor and haven't found a place to stay. Anywhere you might suggest?"

"Bit late to do house hunting now," Jack replied. "Why not come over to the Torchwood office for the night?"

-X-

"Jack," she said later, watching him navigate the hub in near-darkness, "This is nice, but I can't stay."

Her face was cast in shadow and the glow from the screens between them interfered with his vision, but he understood. "Before you make your decision, it must be said that there is a position open here if you want it."

"I'm sure," she said dryly.

He bent down to study the alert that had appeared on the screen. It looked to be a false alarm, but he added a note to follow up on it tomorrow. "Will you stay in Cardiff?"

"Cardiff is very nice," Susan said diplomatically, "But I'd really rather return to England. It's closer to home, even if I am a… few years off."

He straightened up again but made no move to rejoin her. "And you're looking for a place to stay?"

"It would help."

Jack bent over the computer again. Sheets rustled and, a moment later, Susan padded across the floor towards him. "I'll assume you know someone?"

He found the message he was searching for and pulled it up on the screen. Susan leaned in close to read through it with him. "It's dated a month ago," she pointed out. "They could have found a tenant by now."

But Jack was not to be dissuaded. "Somehow, I think not." He reached for his phone, before remembering the time and the fact that it had fallen beneath the bed. He rubbed a hand through his hair, considering her. "You'd have to talk around your secrets, though."

Susan frowned. "I'd gotten the impression she knew about… all this."

"Once," he sighed. "Things happened. She forgot."

-X-


	2. Donna (2)

-X-

.two.

-X-

The woman was, in Donna's opinion, much too skinny. And not like a model, all wispy and delicate. No, one only had to glance at the woman's practical attire and no-nonsense expression to know she was the sort that went for a jog every morning, weekends included. Probably stuck to a healthy diet of salads and shakes, and never ate chocolates.

Still, she was the best applicant Donna had seen so far. If the woman's cleanliness were anywhere near as strict as her supposed diet, there wouldn't be any trouble on that front. And besides, money was money. Lottery winnings in the bank or not, it never hurt to have another steady source of income.

"Of course, I don't have a job yet," Ms. Pevensie added, hands folded neatly in front of her on the table as though she were at a ladies' prayer meeting. "I have been out of the country travelling. But I do have enough for my first two month's rent, which should be long enough to find a position. Temping, at the least."

"I used to be a temp," Donna said somewhat proudly. "Best temp in Chiswick. Nothing wrong with that. Where were you travelling?"

"All over," Ms. Pevensie said vaguely.

Well, there was a story that Donna wouldn't mind learning, but she didn't pry. Not yet. "I'll have to talk to my husband," she said instead, "But I'll give you a call by tomorrow."

-X-

"I don't know how you managed to find this woman," Donna told Wilf later that night, "But I think I finally have someone to rent the basement flat."

"Who?" Wilf asked. He was wrapped up in his stargazing again, not really paying attention to Donna's chattering.

"This Susan Pevensie. Two months rent up front, she said. And she seems neat and orderly."

Wilf pulled away from his telescope to blink at his granddaughter. "Ah, yes, Susan. Lovely girl."

Donna was already wrapped up in considering everything she'd have to do to prepare for her tenant. "Wash the sheets, I suppose. And give everything a wipe-down. I'll get Shaun to check that we didn't leave anything old in the fridge down there - wouldn't that be an embarrassment?" She let out a laugh, before remembering something else. "Oh, I still need to tell Shaun."

"Better get on that, sweetheart," Wilf said fondly, and turned back to the stars.

-X-

When Susan Pevensie arrived at the house, she had one bag slung over her shoulder, a hatbox in the other hand, and nothing more. "I travel light," she said when Donna asked, and requested to be shown to her suite.

"Getting the rest shipped here later?" Donna asked as she fit the key into the lock. She worried a little that the key might stick, but Shaun had done his job of checking all the locks. The door swung open and Donna flipped the light on, and led her new tenant down the stairs.

"Actually, I don't have anything more," Susan replied. She set her bag down on the little table in the designated kitchen space and pulled off her gloves one finger at a time.

"Left the keepsakes with your family?"

Susan turned away to look over the room. "Something like that."

Donna reminded herself of Shaun's warning: that the point of having a tenant was not for gossip. Still, there had to be something she could glean from the enigmatic Ms. Pevensie. "What did you do before travelling?"

But Susan had moved away, purposefully not hearing the question. Donna sighed and shelved the questions for later. She led the tour around the flat, showing off the bedroom and toilet, and apologizing for the lack of microwave. "There's one upstairs that you're welcome to use," she added, "But I'd expect you'll just want to buy your own."

But Susan assured her that she'd be fine without one. Probably thought microwaves went against her health-conscious diet and exercise plan, Donna thought derisively. But she smiled and kept talking and tried to find a way to ask about Susan's travels. She wasn't successful.

-X-


	3. Susan (3)

-X-

.three.

-X-

The bookstore was little and cramped and contained volumes that had been published back in Susan's own time. There was something about the old bookcases and the thick smell of ink and paper that reminded her of home. Mister Kabanough, the owner of the shop, was as aged as the books and had only recently posted an ad for an assistant to help with running the place.

She had been working there for just over a month when Susan realized why it was the store felt so comforting to her. She had assumed the age of the place carried her back to the time she had left - and this was, in a sense, true. It was simply not all. The aged applewood and faint scent of dust was the same as she'd once breathed in before stepping through the doors of a wardrobe. It was a scent that carried the memories of another world.

She stayed late that night, folded on a stool in a back corner of the store. The books she had been shelving remained clutched in her arms as she sank into reminiscence. Kabanough found her hours later and, rather than scold her for avoiding work, bent down to ask if she was all right.

"I'm sorry," she said, and wiped at her cheeks furiously. "I didn't mean to."

"Never apologize for your feelings, lass," he told her. "You head on home now, and I'll close up tonight."

-X-

"Hard day at work?" Donna asked, passing Susan on the path in front of the house. "You look like you could use a drink."

Maybe it hadn't been meant as an invitation, but Susan had hesitated just long enough that Donna took it as acceptance. Somehow, in a matter of minutes, she'd convinced Susan to change clothes, explained to Shaun that he'd have to make his own supper, and bundled the both of them into the car.

"My friend Cherise always says there's nothing better than drinks and men. Preferably both. The bar will be just the spot, tonight. Some football tourney going on. Not a fan myself, but the men will be there." She laughed heartily, throwing both hands up in the air, and Susan couldn't help but smile.

"And maybe," Donna added as she took a corner too fast, throwing Susan against the car door with a thud, "Maybe you can finally tell me a bit about that trip of yours."

-X-

"My mum," laughed Donna near the end of her second drink, "She always had this great story of this one night she was out with the ladies. Celebrating some successful weight-loss program or something. Rubbish, of course. And then her friend jumps up, and her shirt's wriggling and - and - " She stopped suddenly, squinting away into the crowd, and Susan turned her head but saw nothing to have caught her attention.

"I can't quite remember," Donna said slowly. "Come to think of it, she hasn't told that story in a long time. How odd." Her eyes refocused. "It was a laugh, though, the story. I'll have to ask her next time we talk. Funny, though, that I can't remember…"

Susan waited a minute or two until the topic had changed before excusing herself from the table. She wove across the room and ducked into the toilet, where she rummaged through her purse for the prepaid cell phone Jack had given her.

"But she didn't remember it?" he asked when she'd explained what had happened.

"Only the beginning," Susan replied. "It was more as though it had been a habit of hers to tell the story, but the important part - I'm assuming, as I don't actually know the story - was still gone."

"So no danger of lighting up?"

"Not so far as I can tell."

She stepped back against the wall as someone else entered the bathroom, heading directly to the mirror to fix her makeup. Susan glanced down at the girl's nylons and turned away.

"Keep an eye on her," Jack instructed. "Alcohol might trigger a recall, given the right circumstances."

-X-

The crash came from behind the bar, a great smash of shattering bottles hitting the floor one after another accompanied by the shrill scream of the barmaid. The next instant was silence, aside from the radio that continued to blare the latest pop tunes over the wireless.

Susan had been returning to the table when it happened. She caught sight of Donna across the room, gossiping away with a stranger and ignoring the mess behind her. People were standing up, craning their necks as they moved towards the bar in an effort to see the cause of the disturbance. When Susan turned around, the barmaid was backing away in horror before she broke and scrambled over the counter. The crowd resisted, unable to understand why she would be so frightened.

Susan threaded her way through the people, one hand inside her purse so that her fingers rested on the comforting barrel of her revolver, and then she was close enough to see over the counter at the mess. Glass lay scattered in a pool of vodka. Liquid was dripping from the lowest shelf, where one bottle must have struck on the way down. And in the midst of it all was a large, mouse-like creature with blue fur and long, thin ears. It was licking its alcohol-soaked paws and whiskers, and seemed quite docile.

"But what _is_ it?" asked someone behind Susan. And then another voice, "How much did I _drink?"_

Susan ignored them. She set her purse down on the counter, kicked off her heels, and then pulled herself up to crouch on the bar. Carefully, she lowered herself down on the other side, not too close to the mouse. Reached for a glass, hesitated, and selected an empty pitcher instead. Moved closer, and squatted beside the puddle.

The mouse sensed her. She'd expected it to pause, perhaps to run. Instead, it growled and bared long, yellow fangs. Susan slammed the pitcher down on top and held tight as the mouse threw its weight against the sides of its new cage.

"It's all right," she told the mouse soothingly, although she doubted anything so fierce and drunk would even register her voice. "If I could get some help?" she called to the spectators, and glared until one of the men gathered the courage to hop the counter.

"Hold this," she told him, and waited until he was pressing down on the pitcher before removing her hands. The cell was still in her purse on the counter which, thank the lion, had been ignored.

"Jack," she said as soon as the line had been picked up. "I need help. Another infestation of Smarks, I think."

"Jack?" came Donna's familiar voice from behind her. "That your boyfriend? And what are _those?"_

Susan turned her head and, for the first time, saw the five pairs of eyes lined up beneath the counter.

"Hang on," she sighed, and reached for another pitcher.

-X-


	4. Wilf (4)

-X-

.four.

-X-

"You will be alright watching her?"

Wilf stiffened his back. "I've been watching that girl since the day she was born."

He looked over the dishevelled woman again as he accompanied her back out onto the front step. Clearly dressed for an evening out, her hair had fallen from its bun and her clothes were crumpled and torn beneath her coat. She noticed his glance, smiled grimly, and confided, "The mice Donna mentioned - they were small, but their claws were terribly sharp."

Wilf didn't smile in return. "You told me you would keep her safe. That Harkness fellow - he said I could trust you."

"Mister Mott," she said calmly. "I did everything I could. Had I known there would be a disturbance at that bar, I would have suggested somewhere else for the evening. And I would stay to look after her but - well, everything always happens at once." She peered down the street, watching for her ride.

He sighed heavily. "I know. But she's - she's reaching. She's looking for her memories, you know."

Susan bit her lip, and glanced through the window to the kitchen. Wilf followed her gaze. His granddaughter had cornered Sylvia by the stove in order to account the adventures of the evening, gesturing wildly as she spoke. He could only imagine what explanation she must have come up with for it all.

"She's not right," he said suddenly, and turned back to Susan. "I know the Doctor said nothing could be done but - you've been all over -"

"I don't know." The regret was evident in her voice. "But I will try, I promise you. Memories like that - they need to be remembered."

-X-

"I'm going out," announced Donna barely five minutes after Susan had left. "Thanks for the first aid, Gramps."

The door closed behind her with a bang before Wilf could protest. With a haste he hadn't used since the previous Christmas, Wilf abandoned the television to follow her outside. "Donna!" he hollered after her. "Come back!"

She was already at the door to her car. Wilf rushed down the steps and to the street. "Donna, where do you think you're going?"

"Don't think I don't know what's happening here," she declared, stomping her foot. "Susan's put you on watch duty. But that's not enough to stop me."

She climbed into the car. Unsure of what else he could do, Wilf opened the passenger door and sat down beside her.

"You can't _come,"_ Donna argued in exasperation.

"I'm not letting you out on your own, not after what you went through today."

She pouted at the windshield. Wilf didn't move. "All right," she relented at last, turning the key in the ignition, "But we're doing this my way. Donna's investigation, right? The way Susan acted in that bar, the secretive phone call, the previously unknown _Jack._ There's something mysterious going on, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

Wilf opened his mouth, but she wasn't done yet.

"Oh, and while I'm learning about her boyfriend, I'll see if I can find out some information about those blue mice things, too."

-X-

The car only began to slow down once Donna pulled up outside a little bookstore. "Ha!" she crowed triumphantly, and then drifted further down the street to park.

"I thought we were investigating," Wilf said as she rushed to exit the vehicle.

"And we've arrived at the scene of the crime," Donna declared. "I heard her on the phone. Susan told Jack she'd meet him at the bookshop. _This_ bookshop. It's where she works."

Wilf glanced around nervously, uncomfortable in the role of snooping. "Why don't we go back home, dear? I could get the ole telescope out again. Night under the stars, eh?"

Donna wasn't listening. She'd already begun striding back up the street with purpose. She paused momentarily beneath the large, swinging sign that had been painted with a depiction of a thick tome, and waved him on impatiently. Wilf stifled a sigh and followed.

"They'll be in the back, snogging," she told him ghoulishly. "Then again, this _is_ Susan. They may just be sitting chastely in the back corner, holding hands. You stay in the front, in case he tries to leave, and be quiet." She started to let out a whoop, caught herself, and then barged in through the door. Wilf had no choice but to follow.

The furnace must have been on at full strength, for the store's temperature was near tropical and a loud roar filled the air. Donna didn't seem to notice, disappearing into a row of shelves without hesitation. She was going to see it, Wilf realized all at once - he hadn't a clue as to what the "it" would be, but if Susan had been trying to keep Donna away, that would be enough. His only chance now was to warn Susan of their arrival.

Which is why, against his granddaughter's direct orders, he immediately followed after her.

-X-


	5. Susan (5)

-X-

.five.

-X-

Susan stared doubtfully at the gaping, black expanse that had taken up residence in the centre of the bookshelf, and wondered again why she'd agreed to help on this particular job.

"Wormhole, class 3," shouted Jack nonchalantly over the roar caused by the hole, already setting up the containment unit. "They pop up now and again. Torchwood developed this tech back in the eighties and it's been pretty useful. Here, hook up this wire to that stabilizer, there?"

She took the wire and strung it out between them, plugging it into the rod that had been set up on the other side of the hole. "But what causes them?"

"No idea," he responded. "Something to do with time, I think. See, it makes my vortex manipulator go haywire." He held out his wrist to show Susan how the numbers were rotating rapidly.

"So it could connect to the past?" she asked.

"Or the future. Or another place. Like I said, we have no idea."

He passed her a second wire and Susan fiddled to attach it to the rod. When she stepped back, Jack reached around for the trigger. "Make sure to stay past the boundary," he instructed, and even though she was already out of the danger zone, Susan stepped back further. When he pressed the button, the air inside the boundary seemed to ripple before the edges of the wormhole began to slowly pull in.

From the aisle came the sound of crashing books. Susan whirled around to see a tall redhead gaping at them. "No way," Donna declared, eyes flickering between the wormhole, the surrounding technology, and finally Susan and Jack standing like sentinels before it all.

"Well," she continued into the stunned silence, "You must be Jack."

"Hello," he said with a wide smile.

"Oi!" she snapped. "I'm married."

-X-

"I'm sorry," Wilf began, "I tried to stop her."

Susan patted his arm comfortingly. "Donna is a force of nature," she acknowledged. Together, they looked over to where Donna was admiring the technology as Jack did his best to explain in a way that wouldn't spark a memory. He wasn't doing a good job; attempting to skirt any technological terms, he'd been forced to vague comparisons that only served to annoy her.

Susan moved forward, cutting Jack off with a sharp shake of her head and taking Donna by the arm. "I never told you," she said tightly, "but I've encountered one of these before. A long time ago, in the back of a wardrobe."

"A portal?" Donna asked, stumbling over the word and casting a skeptical look at Jack.

Susan followed her eyes, glaring at the man and observing the wormhole behind him. It was almost closed now, only a few minutes more.

"I found it with my siblings when we were young."

Donna snorted, half disbelieving despite the proof before her. "Really? But what caused it?"

Susan thought about what Jack had said earlier about how the wormhole was connected to time. And then she remembered further back to when she'd still travelled with the Doctor. He'd given in and taken her back to the wardrobe, and she'd stood tense at the back of the room while he tapped all across the wood. When Susan suggested he use his sonic, he'd retorted in frustration that _it doesn't do wood._ "But whatever caused the opening is gone now," he'd finally declared, pressing his fingers firm against the panelling.

She tore her eyes away and looked back at Donna. "Magic," she said decidedly. "It was the magic of another world."

"What, like an energy that they manipulated -?"

Susan caught the idea before it could spiral to more dangerous thoughts. "Just magic," she said. "Don't think about it too hard. That's all it was."

With a sucking noise, the wormhole folded in on itself and vanished, leaving an untarnished bookshelf surrounded by an assortment of tech. Susan smiled brusquely and wiped her hands on her trousers. "There. All better."

She caught Jack's eye and looked away quickly, but it was too late. Already she'd seen the concern in his face, the recognition of a deeper backstory that she really did not wish to delve into now. "Come on," she said quickly, "Let's pack this up."

-X-

When the technology had all been fitted back into the two large cases it arrived in, it looked almost as though nothing had even happened. Jack and Wilf set off for the truck and Susan lingered behind, picking up the books that Donna had knocked from the shelf at her arrival.

"Here, let me," Donna said softly, and bent down beside her.

They were silent as they gathered up the volumes. Susan rose and began lining the books on the shelf again. She opened her mouth to speak, but as usual, Donna beat her to the punch.

"You miss it," she said, and it wasn't an accusation so much as recognition. "I can tell. You miss it the same way I miss - oh, I don't know." She fumbled with her words. "Sometimes I feel like I've lost something and it hurts more than anyone can imagine - except you know what it's like."

Susan didn't know what to say. She knew she should let the moment pass, but the smell of the bookstore and that long lost wardrobe were strong around her. "You've forgotten things," she said tightly.

"I know," Donna sighed, surprising Susan. "I can't - it's not there. I can feel where it's missing." She looked up. "But how did you know?"

Susan fell silent, chewing her lip as she replaced the last of the books. Finally, she admitted, "I can't say. Not now."

"But that isn't fair!"

"No, it isn't."

Perhaps it was Susan's dark tone that convinced Donna she was serious. "You sound like you want to."

"Oh, I do. And I'm going to find a way." Susan looked over at her friend and gripped her hand tight. "We'll fix it."

-X-

"Hey, Susan!" Jack called from the truck as she and Donna emerged from the store. He stuck his arm through the window and waggled it in her direction. "Guess what's working? Looks like the - uh, portal fixed it!"

She hurried forward, not needing to ask what it was he referred to. The blinking numbers on his vortex manipulator had fallen into a steady oscillation pattern. "It works?" she asked.

"Anywhere and anytime," he said proudly. His expression sobered momentarily. "You realize this means you can go -"

"We'd better leave," she said quickly. "I'm sure Wilf is ready to get home."

"Oi," Wilf yelped from where he'd been waiting patiently in the back seat of the vehicle. "I've still got adventure in me."

Susan looked back to where Donna still waited in the doorway. "Enough adventure for one day," she said softly. "We don't want anything to happen."

And then Donna frowned and turned back towards the store. "Is someone still in the bookshop?" she asked. "Because I hear -" Her words cut off into choking disbelief.

Susan took a hurried step away from the truck. And that's when the towering humanoid with the curled horns and goat legs emerged from the bookcases.

"I can't believe this," Donna gasped.

Susan looked at the cutlass in the creature's hands and felt her stomach clench. "Neither can I."

-X-


	6. Donna (6)

-X-

.six.

-X-

The monster looked like it had stepped from the pages of one of the many books in the store - and, in fact, Donna was half convinced that it had. It was absolutely ginormous, stood on two furry legs that bent the wrong way, and had devil horns spiralling off the top of its head. It also looked bloody murderous, what with the sword and all.

"Out of the way," ordered Jack. When Donna turned to look, he was climbing down from the vehicle while simultaneously unstrapping a gun from where it had previously been hidden beneath his coat.

"You have a gun?" Donna yelped. She turned back to Susan for help, and saw that the woman had drawn a revolver from her purse. _"You too?_ That better not have been in my house!"

"Out of the way!" Jack shouted again.

Susan stepped in his path. "Not yet," she countered. "We have to reason with him first. There's a good chance he's simply lost."

"Lost?" spluttered Donna. "Where did he even come from? What even _is he?"_

"Seen one of them before," said Jack, trying to edge his way past Donna so he could get through the door. She moved to block his path. Before _anyone_ was shooting _anything_, she was going to get some answers. "Not very friendly. Called an Arm-"

"Satyr," Susan interrupted. "It's a satyr."

Jack gave her a funny look. Donna would have asked for clarification only that was when the Arm-Satyr thing started to charge.

"Wait!" shouted Susan. "We don't want to hurt you! I can take you back home."

The thing didn't even listen. The sword glinted as he raised it over his head, bellowing loudly. Susan steadied her stance, raised an arm -

The gun jammed.

There wasn't time to do anything but react. Donna reached to her left and grabbed the closest thing to hand - a thick, heavy tome from the top of a display. "Hey!" she shouted, and swung upward.

-X-

Book connected with sword and, somehow, won. Whatever the monster's weapon was made of, it clearly had never met the likes of the thick cardboard-and-glue spine that held together all thirty-seven of Shakespeare's plays.

Donna peeped out from under it in shock, half certain she had just been run through, died, and woken up in the afterlife. But no - surely if that had happened, she wouldn't have brought the monster with her. It glared fiercely at her, let out an angry shout that at close quarters sounded more like a goat's bleat, and pulled hard on his sword. Donna was nearly lifted off her feet.

"Oh no, you don't!" she yelped, and tugged back, hard.

The sword was stuck tight. It became an odd sort of tug-of-war, with the monster trying to pull his sword free and Donna trying to pull it back out of his grip. And then she caught the look in his eyes and realized half a second too late that he'd given up on the weapon. The creature thrust it aside, raised his arms, and -

Something - no, some_one_ tackled the monster and brought it down. Donna lowered the book-and-sword to point threateningly at the heap on the ground. Then she recognized who her saviour was. "Gramps?"

"Still got the fight in me," Wilf declared happily, before dismay crossed his face as the creature shifted beneath him. "Some help here?"

Jack had finally made his way in through the door, and swept forward to help pin the monster down. Susan followed, tucking her revolver away. "Jack, give me your hand."

He looked up incredulously, but Susan had already plucked one of his arms and unstrapped the black device. Donna, still panting from her impromptu fight, moved closer to see what she was doing. She didn't get much of a chance; Susan strapped the device to her own wrist, typed in a date, and instructed the others to leap away on her count.

"I know where to go," she stated again. She started to say something else, glanced sideways at Donna, and began again, "A friend showed me once."

Donna wasn't sure what she was expecting when the count-down hit zero. Even so, the purple lightning, loud snap, and sudden disappearance of both Susan and the monster was not even close.

-X-

There wasn't even time to count the seconds, although a dusty part of Donna's mind had woken just enough that she almost tried. _Pipe down,_ she thought crossly to herself, which felt a little mad even for her. But whatever it was, it stopped stirring, leaving Donna with the feeling that she had pulled her head out from beneath a large weight.

And then the air fizzled and cracked once more, and Susan had returned. The woman's trousers were streaked with mud and her hair looked as though it had come undone and then been bundled up into another hasty bun. She was also alone.

"Back safe and sound?" Jack asked wryly, picking himself up off the floor.

Susan bent to help Wilf to his feet rather than answer. "Time to go home, I think," she declared. "I'm going to need some sleep before I return tomorrow morning to clean up these books."

In all the excitement, Donna hadn't even noticed the mess. It appeared that the Shakespeare anthology she had picked had not actually been from the top of the display, as the entire top third of the pyramid had collapsed across the floor. Ahead, more books lay between the shelves. Presumably, the monster had taken his initial anger out by pushing them all to the floor. Donna really couldn't see how it would have helped.

She started as a soft hand fell on her shoulder, and turned to find Susan looking over her carefully. "You aren't hurt?" the woman asked. "Your head?"

Donna shook her head, a little numbly. She could feel the space rattling in the back corner of her mind but, even now, she couldn't open it. Didn't know if she wanted to open it. "I'm fine," she said, and looked down at the mess again.

"Sorry," Susan apologized with a half smile.

"No. Blimey. That was - almost fun. Best night I've had in years." Donna let out a whooping laugh. She bobbed on her feet, bouncing from side to side with energy as her hands twisted in the air before her. "I'm a natural! Like something I'm meant to do!"

The others caught their breaths at once, staring at her with peculiar expressions. Donna rolled her eyes. "I'm not going monster-hunting, if that's what you're afraid of. I'd have to be bonkers!"

-X-


	7. Jack (7)

-X-

.seven.

-X-

He wasn't planning to go inside when he pulled up at the door to the Temple-Noble house, but Susan had other ideas.

"Long time, Jack," she said, and the way she stared at him with those eyes, he really couldn't resist.

Donna and Wilf had already returned, both waiting at the kitchen table with steaming mugs of tea and discussing the stars. Jack's first instinct was to cut them off because surely it was too dangerous - only, Donna showed no sign of remembering. Besides, if two alien species, a wormhole, and a Shakespeare anthology weren't enough to bring those memories back, he wasn't sure what would.

"Shaun's in the other room," Donna gestured and somehow, Jack found himself poking his head through the doorway.

"'Allo," said Shaun, upon noticing the stranger in his sitting room.

Jack nodded to the telly. "Anything good on?"

"Nah."

Jack stayed anyway, leaning up against the doorframe and listening to the snippets of conversation behind him. Donna was asking questions about Susan's experience with the wormhole as a child. He heard something about snow as well as the admittance that given the chance, Susan would go right back.

"It sounds amazing," Donna sighed at one point. "I wish I could remember adventures like that."

Jack stiffened. Susan didn't miss a beat. "You can remember today. You were marvellous in the bookshop."

"You think?" Donna asked, cheered by the thought. "It just felt natural to me. Looked bloody natural to you, too. This portal thing, then, you do that a lot?"

"I've gotten used to improvisation."

Wilf chuckled. "You're awfully experienced for your age."

"That's what I said," muttered Jack. Beside him, Shaun let out a snort and tried to hide it with a cough.

There was an awkward pause and Jack almost turned around, but then Susan was speaking again, "I'm older on the inside."

"Everyone is, these days," Wilf grumbled.

If Donna understood, she gave no sign.

-X-

"You said the fifties, yes?" Jack asked, fiddling again with his vortex manipulator.

"There isn't a reason for me to go back," Susan retorted from across the room. "No one's waiting for me. I might as well stay here."

He didn't believe her, not completely. He'd seen the wistful look that crossed her face those few times she'd mentioned her home before. "You don't have to stay," he said, locking the location and holding the device out. "Just a visit. Surely there's something you've left behind. And you never know - " He hesitated slightly, remembering that Donna was still in the room. "Someone might drop in, looking for you."

"He's not coming for me," she said, matter-of-fact. "He can't bear looking back. I don't blame him."

"Still." He continued to hold his arm out until finally, she relented.

"I'd hit you over the head with this," she said with a smirk, nodding to the vortex manipulator as he strapped it around her wrist. "But you're right - there are a few keepsakes I wouldn't mind collecting. And it won't take long to tie up loose ends."

Jack grinned at her until she levelled a cool gaze at him in return. He whispered, "Did you really fall through a wormhole as a child?"

"And stayed long enough to rule as queen," she responded, voice equally soft.

He shook his head admiringly. "Damn, that's sexy."

The gap closed between them. He could feel Susan's breath on his skin, taste her warm lips on his mouth -

"Oi!" shouted an affronted Donna. "Get a room!"

Susan pulled away and breathed a laugh. "My apologies," she said. Growing serious, she told Donna, "While I'm gone, I can look for answers, if you'd like."

Jack wondered how much Susan had told Donna of her situation. It was a fine line she was treading, a balance that couldn't be maintained forever. Susan noticed his disapproval and said firmly, "She needs to remember, Jack. You don't know what it's like to have a hole where memories should be."

He stilled, the reminder hurting even after so long. "Don't assume that."

She caught herself and grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." And then, looking between him and Donna, continued, "I can't promise I'll find anything. I don't even know where I could start searching."

Would it even be possible to find a cure that the Doctor had said was non-existent? Jack considered the women before him, both so fiercely determined. If anyone could, he realized, it would be them.

He made a decision. "Leave it until you're back. Between the two of us, we can think of places to investigate."

"Three of us," Donna corrected. Laughing, she elbowed Susan playfully. As she pulled back, Donna's hand swiped gently over the device now strapped to Susan's wrist.

"Watch out!" Jack yelped, and pulled Donna back just as the purple-blue light reached from the manipulator to swallow Susan.

And then it was gone, leaving nothing but the hint of smoke where Susan had once sat.

-X-

The evening was brisk, and even his heavy coat was not enough to keep Jack warm. On such a night he would have much preferred to be inside, warming his hands over the heater and dreaming of future technologies. Instead, he'd been assigned to investigate an alien sighting.

He'd found the alien, all right. It was an easy case of 'just go where the people are screaming.' The creature was squat and fat with a piggish face and kept trying to take out its rage on whatever poor humans strayed in its path. Jack had been pushed to his limit trying to fend it off in time to get the intended victims to safety, and it had already cost him his life. He wasn't very keen on letting it happen again.

The alien turned into an alleyway that Jack knew was a dead end. Unless the creature was planning on meeting more of its kind, this would be the spot to take it down. Jack followed cautiously, slipping off the safety of his gun and keeping to the shadows. Just a little further, and he would -

There came a flash, dim and purple, from the end of the alley. He recognized the signs of teleportation well enough, but for one absurd moment he thought it was the alien who had transported away. Then he saw the tall, female figure who stumbled and caught herself with one hand against the brick wall. The alien snarled as it made its leap towards fresh prey. The sharp report of a gunshot caught the creature just as its claws raked at her arm.

The woman lowered her weapon and heaved a sigh before pulling herself upright. She glanced once at her wrist and swore under her breath.

Jack stepped forward, raising his weapon. "I'd know a teleportation device anywhere," he said.

The woman had her gun pointed at him in the blink of an eye. "Would you know how to fix one?" She squinted at him through the shadows and faltered. "Jack?"

He moved closer, giving her an admiring once-over. "Have we met before?"

Her words came slow. "Perhaps not. Not yet. I'm Susan." She lowered her arm, although Jack had no doubt she could react fast if she even suspected he might make a move.

He made a move anyways, albeit one of a different sort. "Well, Susan," he responded, and lowered his own gun in kind, "How about I buy you a drink?"

-X-

**-END-**


End file.
